


Die Trying

by sourwulfur



Series: This is War [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Magic!Stiles, Multi, Sequel, WIP, War, werewolf!jackson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-12 14:20:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourwulfur/pseuds/sourwulfur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been four months since Jackson was bitten over Christmas Break, four months in which he has trained with Derek's pack and formed a bond with them. That does not stop the itch he feels to be elsewhere. War is looming on them, and they can all feel it. Lines will be drawn, and someone may just lose themselves along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> So, this first chapter is more of an introductory chapter, kind of getting you caught up on most of what has happened and to get you into the mindset of Jackson and Stiles, at least partially. So, here we go!
> 
> Special thanks to [Lidil](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidil/pseuds/Lidil) for pointing out an error for me!

Jackson sighed as he ran a towel over his head repeatedly, drying the wet strands of hair since he had just gotten out of the shower. Another towel was slung low over his hips as he walked over to the window in his bedroom with a frown. It was storming off to the west again, forming somewhere over the woods. Thunderstorms that time of year were not uncommon, but none of them were typically as violent as the ones that Jackson had witnessed; and, they had started back in mid-January, where light snow was still more common. Nothing had been normal since he had gotten himself bitten, however, and he reached up to where a bite mark _should_ have blemished his skin along with the long, jagged scars on his chest that did not heal right since they did not start to close until after he had finished the transition. Alpha wounds were tricky, apparently. Jackson was still adjusting to life as a werewolf, and he was honestly not sure how he had gone that long without his parents finding out. With a sigh, Jackson dropped the towel in his hand aside and went over to his dresser so that he could pull out some boxers and a pair of sleep pants to tug on.

 

Once he had, he started to walk over to his phone so that he could call Stiles, only to have his attention drawn to the window outside when he noticed a long series of lightning strikes hitting the same area out in the woods, something that made his brow furrow. That was not normal. After another few moments, Jackson went to pull on a shirt as well and he changed into some jeans. He then grabbed his phone and took out, deciding to go investigate what was going on out in the woods. Jackson knew that he probably should not have been venturing off alone, and that Derek would reprimand him if the alpha found out; but, he did not care. He drove as deeply into the woods as he could take his car without it getting stuck before he got out and started to walk. The clouds had already started to dissipate and it was only sprinkling lightly.

 

When Jackson got to the spot that he thought the lightning had struck, he could feel the hairs on the back on his neck prickle. There was an energy to the clearing in the woods that should have not been there. It was not natural. He had to fight back a want to _growl_ as his eyes flashed blue and he looked around. There was some kind of altar in the middle of the clearing, with a few abandoned candles but no signs of a lightning strike anywhere. When the wind started to pick up, Jackson scrunched his face up at the slight metallic tang to the air that he had come to associate with _magic_. Stiles sometimes had the same sense around him, sometimes more so than others and increasingly over the previous months.

 

The wind started to pick up more and the trees around him started to groan under the strength of it. Jackson stared up at the sky as dark clouds started to roll in once again. Thunder rumbled and lightning lit the clouds without producing a single bolt to the ground. “Jackson?” he heard to his right and he turned to see Isaac standing a few feet away with a furrowed brow. “Did you see...?”

 

His question trailed off, but Jackson knew he was asking about the freak storm from earlier and he nodded. “Did you come here alone?”

 

Isaac nodded and Jackson could not help but smirk a little. At least he was not the only one. “What is this?” Isaac questioned as he walked over to where Jackson was, his face scrunching up as well.

 

He shrugged a little, shoving his hands in his pockets as he said, “Stiles might know.”

 

“Where is he?”

 

At the other beta's question, Jackson’s brow furrowed and he pulled out his phone as he mumbled that he did not know. He then called up Stiles while nodding in the direction that he had left his car in, having a sinking feeling that they needed to get out of there the longer that they were there. “Stiles?” he said when the phone call was answered.

 

“Hey, Jackson, what's up?” replied Stiles, pinning his phone to his ear as he shifted through some papers on his desk.

 

“Where are you right now?” Jackson and Isaac walked faster toward the car as it started to rain again and both climbed in just before it started to pour.

 

“What's going on? Is it raining?” Stiles looked out his window to see that it was not raining there, but he could see clouds in the distance. “I'm at home. Why?”

 

Both Jackson and Isaac jumped at an overly loud clap of thunder and Jackson pinned his phone to his ear with his shoulder while throwing the car into reverse so that they could get out of there. “Derek's told us to keep an eye out for anything weird, right? Well, there's some kind of altar in the woods. It's _big_ , bigger than one person would need; and, it drew enough energy for multiple lightning strikes without leaving a mark.”

 

Stiles brow furrowed as he reached up with his free hand to ruffle his hair. “I've not heard anything of a group practicing or anything,” Stiles stated as he dropped down into his seat, tapping the side of the coffee cup sitting there as his eyes flashed gold before turning black as he warmed up his coffee. “I'll ask Bridget at work tomorrow.” Stiles nodded a little to himself, his eyes returning to normal as he held the re-warmed drink to his lips to take a sip.

 

“Alright, thanks. I’m gonna take Isaac to Derek’s. D'you mind if I come by after?”

 

Stiles smiled a little at the question and shook his head, even though Jackson could not see. “No, yeah, that's fine. I’ll see you then.”

 

After the two of them said their good-byes and hung up the phone, Stiles sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking back out the window before looking at his coffee, which he pushed aside. He needed to stop doing things like that. He was using a lot more magic over the previous few months, mostly little things but those little things added up fast. He was a lot better at healing spells, finally, and had gotten to the point that he could heal himself even faster than the werewolves would heal. He had promised his dad he would not delve far into the magic thing, but the more he learned, the more enticing it grew. He had known that it was a possibility; but, after having been _useless_ to help Jackson on the day that he had gotten bit, he knew he could not just sit by and do nothing anymore.

 

Jackson had almost _died_ , something that still made his heart clench painfully and he had to force himself to take a deep, shaky breath. Stiles clenched his eyes shut and reminded himself that Jackson was _fine_. He was no longer human, but at least he was _safe_. He ran a hand over his face and got up, grabbing the cup of coffee to take downstairs. Once he got to the kitchen, he dumped out the drink and rinsed it clean before putting it into the dish washer.

 

It was then that Stiles started to make dinner for himself and his dad with enough for Jackson, too, if he was hungry. It was nothing special, just simple spaghetti and garlic toast; but, that was about all the skill in cooking that Stiles had. He was almost finished when he heard his father call from the front hall, “Jackson's here!”

 

With a smile, Stiles set aside the plates he pulled out before going over to the front hall to meet the other teen while his dad went back to the living room to watch some sort of game on the television. Stiles thought it was baseball, but he could have been wrong. “Hi,” Stiles said with a bright smile as he leaned in to give his boyfriend of several months a kiss. The two of them had finally worked things out and officially became a couple soon after Jackson’s first shift.

 

Stiles had been there the entire time, much to Jackson’s dismay. He had not wanted Stiles there to see him like that; but, Stiles remained, helping the others keep him in the old subway car. It was quickly discovered that Stiles was Jackson’s anchor, just as Jackson was slowly becoming Stiles' anchor when it came to using magic. “C'mon, dinner might burn,” Stiles said as he took Jackson’s hand and led the other teen into the kitchen where he could keep a better eye on dinner. “So, what's going on?”

 

“We don't know,” answered Jackson with a shake of his head as Stiles hopped up to sit on the counter. Jackson moved to stand right in front of him, each of Stiles' knees pressing against his hips. “Just that there's some creepy altar in the woods. Derek tried to seem nonchalant about it; but, we could tell he was nervous.”

 

They all knew that Derek was not fond of magic, and an altar that size did not bode well for them. Stiles simply hummed a little in response, nodding a little, though he did not say anything. “Are you okay?” Jackson asked after a few quiet moments, making Stiles' hands still where they were absentmindedly running along Jackson’s arms.

 

“Yeah,” answered Stiles with a sigh and a nod. “Just tired. Been busy lately from work and school, filling out all those scholarship applications.” He nodded again and gently squeezed Jackson’s arms with a slight smile. “I missed you.” They had not been able to spend much time together in the previous month or two, once things at school and around Beacon Hills had started to pick up. It made it difficult to have time to do anything that was not somehow working.

 

“I missed you, too.” Jackson’s tone was one that led Stiles to believe that he was being honest as the other teen's hands rested on his hips with a gentle squeeze. He had noticed that after Jackson turned the young man had become a lot more touchy, not that Stiles minded. He loved when Jackson would shift his fingers through his lengthening hair or would hug him close. It was nice, not something he was _used_ to yet, but still nice.

 

They continued to talk quietly, mostly about school, until Stiles gently pushed Jackson away so that he could move and get the garlic toast out of the oven. “Dad, dinner's done!” Stiles called over to where the doorway was so that the man could hear him easier, smiling when Jackson helped him with setting plate and glasses out for the three of them.

 

John, Stiles, and Jackson sat at the table as they ate, talking about some of the things that had been going on and school. College got brought up, and Stiles admitted that he still had no idea where he wanted to go. Jackson was going to the college in the neighboring town but would continue to live in Beacon Hills since it was less than a thirty-minute drive. Stiles knew that the two of them would support him no matter where he chose to go to school; but, Stiles was unsure if he wanted to be that far away from the pack or not. He would probably end up doing the same as Jackson and everyone else.

 

After dinner, Stiles and Jackson went up to Stiles' room, where they worked on homework and talked some more. Stiles had closed the door behind them with a small burst of magic that made Jackson’s brow raise, but he did not comment. He had noticed Stiles' increase in doing small things like that; but, he had yet to comment on it. As long as Stiles continued to keep control, Jackson did not feel a need to bring it up. Derek was not worried, so he did not feel like he needed to be.

 

It was late when Jackson finally left, the two teens taking a long few minutes to just hang on to one another before Jackson actually exited the house. Letting out a breath he did not realize he was holding, Stiles went back up to his bedroom, trying to ignore the fact that as he flexed his fingers to try to dispel the tingling feeling there, a slight breeze ruffled everything in his room. His windows were shut. He walked over to the window that overlooked the woods behind the house and watched as lightning lit up the sky once again. Someone was practicing out in the woods, and the magic they were using was drawing Stiles to join. He _wanted_ to join. Instead, he reached up to play with the class ring he wore around a thin chain; Jackson’s class ring. It was cheesy, but the sentiment was nice, and Stiles used the ring as a way to keep him grounded whenever he did practice magic because all it took was a simple touch of the cool metal to have him remembering when Jackson had given it to him.

 

They had been tangled up in one another's arms at Jackson’s place, talking about nothing really when Jackson grabbed it out of the Jostens bag that was sitting on the bedside table. Stiles had laughed and accused the other teen of being corny, but he still attempted to wear the ring. It was slightly too big, though; and they settled for him wearing it around his neck. Everyone in school knew what it was anyway.

 

Stiles smiled a little at the memory and turned to start getting ready for bed. He pushed all thoughts of the supernatural out of his mind as he finally collapsed into the bed, wishing that Jackson was there. He found that he slept easier when the other teen was right there. Settling for wrapping his fingers around the ring he still wore around his neck, Stiles slowly fell into a very restless sleep.


	2. One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles isn't sleeping well, and there's a moment of bonding over cookies with his dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken so long for me to update this and all my other works. Life's been hectic, which makes muse for certain stories wax and wane. Plus, my computer died a while back and I only recently got a replacement. So, here's the next chapter.

With a gasp, Stiles sat up quickly in his bed, sheets tangled around his waist in a way that made him stumble in his rush to get up and to his feet, grabbing the baseball bet that was stored in the small space between his bed and the table next to it. He breathed heavily as he let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting in the room, trying to figure out just what the sound was that had woken him. His terrible nightmare that involved the others faded from his mind quickly as he slowly made his way out of his bedroom and down the stairs. He quickly turned the corner to go into the kitchen and yelled as he went to swing the bat, only to stop when his dad yelled back at him. “Dad?” he questioned as he dropped the bat. “What are you _doing_?”

 

“What am _I_ doing? What are _you_ doing? Do you even play baseball?” questioned John Stilinski with slightly breathless laugh as he slowly started to calm down from the scare he just encountered.

 

“It may or may not be Scott's.” Stiles ignored his father's eye-roll in response to his statement, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why are you sneaking around the kitchen after midnight? Is that... Is that a thing of cookies?”

 

There was a few moments of silence before John slowly said, “No.”

 

“Oh, well, that's too bad. I was gonna say we should eat them, then,” Stiles replied, smiling slightly when his dad laughed in response.

 

John reached out and wrapped an arm around his son's shoulders, ruffling his hair. “Get us a couple glasses of milk and we'll sit in the living room.”

 

With a nod, Stiles went to the cabinet to grab two glasses in order to fill them with milk from the fridge while his dad took the cookies into the living room. After putting the milk jug back, Stiles took the two glasses into the living room and sat down next to his dad while the sheriff turned the television to a channel that played nothing but old cartoons. “So,” John said as he took his glass from Stiles, lifting his legs to rest them on the coffee table while crossing them at the ankles, “how's Jackson?”

 

“He's good, I mean, considering,” Stiles answered with a nod and a shrug, picking off a piece of one of the cookies to dunk into the milk before eating it. “Derek says he's getting better control; but, he's kinda... spacey lately.”

 

“Mm. You still have no idea who bit him?” John glanced over at his son for a moment as the teen shook his head before he focused on his cookies once again. “The Whittemores, they still don't know, do they?”

 

Stiles shook his head again, sinking a little lower on the couch to rest his head comfortably against the back. “No. Jackson doesn't want them to know for as long as possible.”

 

John nodded a little in understanding as he chewed a piece of cookie slowly, watching Tom and Jerry on the television. “Are you okay, Stiles?” he asked, watching his son once again.

 

The teen nodded as he wet his lips before shrugging a little. “Been having some weird dreams lately, but other than that, 'm good.” John did not need to know how bad his dreams actually wore, Stiles decided. The man worried enough without knowing that. “There's someone practicing magic out in the woods, a lot of it. Isaac and Jackson found their altar today.”

 

“And this is a bad thing?” John questioned for clarification, nodding once in understanding when Stiles nodded as he chewed on a bit of cookie.

 

“Someone, or someones drawing as much power as Isaac and Jackson say they did?” Stiles sighed as he shook his head, resting his head on the back of the couch. “It's too much. Something that requires that much energy would either kill someone or... I don't know; but, it can't be good.”

 

John nodded as he settled down onto the couch a little more, letting a few moments of quiet pass between him and his son before he tried speaking again. “You are being careful, aren't you, Stiles?”

 

“Yeah...” Stiles nodded a little, looking at his hands as he broke a small chunk of cookie off of the main piece, unable to bring himself to look at his dad. He was using more magic than he would like to say that he did; but, he was still safe. There was nothing to worry about yet, and Stiles was trying to just keep his focus on healing. He wanted to be able to help people, not harm them. Still, it was dangerous because he risked the possibility of draining himself of too much energy if he helped someone with injuries that were bad enough. Plus, there was also the chance of transference. It was not an occurrence that happened often; but, on the rare occasion, the witch preforming the healing spells would find themselves becoming the new host of the injuries. With minor scrapes and bruises, it was no big deal.

 

There was, however, the story of caution that anyone who practiced was told. It was about a witch that had lived in Sacramento. She tried to save her dying boyfriend, and she succeeded; but, the injuries transferred over to her, and in her weakened state, she succumbed to the injuries. Stiles shuddered a little at the thought alone, the small movement not passing his father's watchful eye. “Are you okay?” the sheriff asked, earning himself a nod and a yawn in response.

 

“`M just tired,” Stiles stated as he stood up. “I think I’m gonna head to bed.”

 

John nodded a little, saying his good-nights to his son before watching the teen head back upstairs, taking the baseball bat with him. “Be safe, Stiles,” the man mumbled, knowing that the teen did not hear it.

 

\---

 

 

The following morning, Jackson picked Stiles up for school and they both sat in silence on the short drive to the building. Jackson held Stiles' hand almost the entire way, only letting go when he needed to shift gears. When they got out of the car and started to walk toward the school, Jackson’s arm wound around Stiles' waist, making the slightly younger teen smile and lean into the embrace. “You seem tired,” Jackson stated quietly as they walked toward Jackson’s locker, the closest one to the parking lot.

 

“Mmhmm, didn't sleep well,” replied Stiles, pulling away from Jackson’s hold to lean against the near-by lockers while Jackson grabbed what he would need for class. “And Dad woke me up, sneaking some cookies in the kitchen.” Jackson chuckled a little, and Stiles smiled in response as he let his head rest against the lockers, sighing as he closed his eyes. “What about you?”

 

“Couldn't sleep.” Jackson’s words were mumbled, and Stiles barely heard them, but he opened his eyes to look at the lacrosse star, frowning faintly. “It's getting stronger, that, uh... urge to run somewhere.”

 

“Have you talked to Derek?” Stiles' brow furrowed a little as he stood up a little straighter, and Jackson shook his head in response. “Maybe we should. It could be... I mean, what if the alpha that bit you is near?” Jackson tensed a little at Stiles' words, but Stiles rested a hand on his back and continued speaking. “Scott sorta had the same thing when Peter was calling him out; he wanted to follow Peter.”

 

Jackson nodded a little as he turned to face Stiles, idly wetting his lips before speaking again. “How did he fight it?”

 

Stiles could not help but laugh a little at the question, a grin forming on his face as he shrugged. “Allison.”

 

The bell rang at that moment, interrupting what Jackson tried to say in response, but the teen just took Stiles' hand so they could quickly stop by his locker as well. Once Stiles had what he would need for his first class, the two of them walked to Harris' classroom. Jackson stopped to quickly kiss Stiles, squeezing his hand before continuing to his own classroom down the hall. Stiles smiled to himself as he went into the chemistry room and decided that not even Harris could ruin the good mood he had at that moment.

 

Stiles spent the rest of the morning in a good mood despite how tired he was, but that only lasted until lunch, when Jackson never came to join them at the table. “Where's Jackson?” Stiles asked Danny, making the lacrosse player look to him from Isaac, whom he had been teasing to the point that Isaac’s face was red.

 

Danny frowned a little, brow furrowing as he watched Stiles for a moment before he said, “Jackson didn't tell you? He left. Half-way through first period. Said something about a headache.”

 

“What do you mean he _left_?”

 

“He went home, I’d assume,” replied Danny with a slight shrug. “Why? What's wrong?”

 

Stiles shook his head, mumbling a quick, “See you later,” before he was rushing out of the cafeteria, pulling out his cell phone to call Jackson. “Please just let me be paranoid,” Stiles mumbled to himself, running a hand through his hair as he scanned the parking lot for any sign of Jackson’s car. It was not there, and Jackson was not answering his cell phone. It kept going straight to voicemail. So, Stiles tried the Whittemore house phone; but no one answered there, either. “Fuck.”

 

It was too soon to start worrying just yet, Stiles kept reminding himself. Maybe Jackson was just home, asleep. After worrying at his lower lip for a moment, Stiles called up Derek and asked the alpha to go by Jackson’s place to check. When the bell rang for classes to begin again, Stiles reluctantly turned around and went back inside the school. Isaac kept watching him with a furrowed brow and Scott kept asking him if he was okay. They were not even half-way through the class period before Stiles was rushing out of the classroom to answer his phone call, not even looking to see if it was Derek calling. “D'you find him?” Stiles asked, clenching his free hand at his side.

 

“Jackson's not been here since this morning,” Derek stated as he looked around the teen's bedroom a little. “But, his car's outside. His phone's been broken. I can't tell if he did it... or someone else. There's... I don't know, something weird I can't really sense anyone having been outside but there's extra footprints.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“I don't know.”

 

\---

 

“We can't wait twenty-four hours for the police to get involved,” Stiles stated as he leaned against the table in Derek's place. The pack was all there, including Danny that time because he had insisted. Isaac swore to Derek that Danny would be fine knowing, so Derek agreed. “I'm going to find him.”

 

“How?” asked Scott from his place in the corner of the room, where he had been pacing. Scott was not Jackson’s biggest fan but the guy meant a lot to his best friend. That was enough for him.

 

Stiles smiled slightly at Scott, nodding a little at his best friend before saying, “I need you to grab some things from the house for me.” As he spoke, Stiles walked over to the table in front of the windows, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen to write down the items that he would need. “Derek, do you have a map of Beacon Hills and the woods surrounding?”

 

The alpha nodded silently, letting out a deep breath before stating that he would go get it. Derek then sent Isaac and Scott to Stiles' place to grab the things that he needed. “Are you sure you can do this?” the man asked as he handed Stiles the map. He was not entirely sure what Stiles was planning, but he did not doubt that it would involve magic.

 

The teen nodded resolutely as he took the map and set it out on the table, using different items to hold it out flat. “Yeah, I’ve got it. I’ll be fine. Jackson’s the one we should be worried about here, not me.”

 

Derek nodded a little, but let the subject drop after that, choosing to stand out of the way as Stiles glanced over the map, impatiently waiting for the two betas to return. It took several minutes that felt like hours before Isaac and Scott got back with what Stiles had asked for. Everyone continued to stay out of the way, though they circled around the table as Stiles lay out a candle in each corner of the map, quickly lighting them before placing the few other items along one edge, each one representing one of the elements. Isaac frowned faintly as they watched Stiles' eyes flash gold before they darkened to black as he focused on working a locating spell, using Jackson’s ring around his neck as the signifier of who he was searching for.

 

Stiles held the ring on its chain above the map still and everyone watched as it began to move. It swung in small circles for several long moments before the chain snapped and the ring rolled off of the map instead of pointing out a specific location, as it had been meant to. Stiles' eyes went back to normal in a fainter flash of gold while Danny let out a breath he did not realize he was holding before asking, “What does that mean?”

 

Stiles shook his head, absentmindedly wetting his lips as he stared at the ring where it had stopped near the wall. “I don't know,” he answered quietly. “That's... that's not supposed to happen. I... _Fuck_ , I don't know.”

 

“We're going to find him, Stiles,” Derek insisted, making all the pack members, and Danny, look over to the alpha as Derek crossed the room to gently squeeze Stiles' shoulder. “We will. Boyd and I will go out looking tonight; Isaac and Scott can take over in the morning.”

 

“What about me?” questioned Erica as she crossed her arms over her chest.

 

“Pick which group to go with.” Erica nodded once, shifting over to stand next to Boyd. “Why don't you and Danny stay here tonight? We'll tell you first if we find anything.”


	3. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three days have passed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we go with the next chapter. Mostly just filler; but, y'know, that happens.

Three days; it had been three days since Jackson had disappeared. Search parties kept combing the woods surrounding the town, but so far, nothing was found. Not even the search dogs could find a trace of him anywhere. The pack was restless, none of them able to focus, especially not at school. Stiles was well past pretending like he could pay attention, unlike his friends. Sitting in chemistry, Stiles kept tapping his pencil on his notebook, ignoring Harris telling him to stop until the man took his pencil. Stiles' attention was not on the teacher, however, and his brow furrowed as he gazed out the window toward the woods just past the parking lot. “Mr. Stilinski,” Mr. Harris started, cutting off when the teen got up and left the classroom without a word.

 

Danny and Scott exchanged confused glances before they got up and followed Stiles, grabbing his things as well as their own. They, too, ignored Mr. Harris as they simply walked out of the classroom. When they finally caught up with Stiles, he was in the woods, following someone else. Scott tensed a little when he realized who it was, just before Stiles said, “Jackson!”

 

Jackson spun around to face them, claws already extended and eyes flashing gold. His clothes were ripped and bloody, and he looked like he'd spent the previous few days fighting. Scott tried to stop his best friend, but Stiles lurched forward and threw his arms around Jackson in a hug that nearly sent them both stumbling back. Scott was almost at his friend's side to tug the stupid boy away from Jackson, who could very easily hurt him. However, before Scott even tried, Jackson’s expression softened and his hands returned to normal slowly as he seemed to finally become aware of where he actually was. Scott sensed no more threat from the guy and slowly relaxed as well. “Stiles? What-? What's going on?” Jackson asked, his voice scratchy, as if he had spent a lot of time yelling.

 

Stiles' brow furrowed as he pulled away enough to look at Jackson. “You don't know?” he asked before looking over at Danny and Scott.

 

Jackson shook his head, his own brow furrowed as he looked between Stiles, Scott, and Danny. “What am I doing here?”

 

“Jacks,” Danny said slowly, not exactly sure how to handle the whole situation, “you've been gone for _three days_.”

 

“Fuck, we have to call my dad,” Stiles said, pulling his phone out of his pocket with one hand, leaving the other arm firmly around Jackson, fingers absentmindedly gripping onto the back of his shirt. Jackson asked why they would need to do that and Stiles laughed softly in disbelief. “Three days, Jackson. Everyone's been out looking for you. There's been search teams.”

 

“I'll call Mom,” Scott said with a nod. “Let her know what's going on.”

 

“Dude,” Danny said softly, running a hand through his hair as he shook his head. “What the fuck is going on?”

 

None of them even pretended to have an answer for him, because none of them had any idea. Jackson was safe for the time being, but that was all they knew.

 

Derek met them at the hospital once they got there due to the officials insisting that Jackson needed to go get himself checked out. Stiles, Danny, and Scott waited in the waiting room with Derek, trying to ignore the confused and slightly harsh looks that Mr. and Mrs. Whittemore was giving Derek. Several minutes later, Derek and Scott both turned their attention to the double doors at the entrance of the room just before the doctor actually came into the room. “Jackson Whittemore?” the man asked, only to look surprised when the teen's parents, as well as the other four stood up. He rose a brow but then shook his head a little and said, “Jackson will be free to leave here in a few minutes. He's just going over some contact information in case he starts feeling off or remembers something that will help his report. He's got no injuries or illnesses that we can find, but he does not remember anything of what has happened over the previous few days.”

 

Stiles shared a look with Derek, both of them finding the scenario a little too familiar for comfort. They could clearly remember when Lydia was lost, wandering around the woods for a few days without remembering anything afterward. Of course, nothing ended up happening from that besides Peter's resurrection. Stiles still did not like that idea. When Jackson came out a few minutes later, Stiles was almost immediately hugging him again, that time with Jackson responding immediately, pressing a kiss to Stiles' temple. “I'm fine,” Jackson reassured everyone before looking to Derek, who nodded. They would need to talk later.

 

“We should get home,” Jackson’s mother stated after a moment, making the teen look to her, smiling faintly.

 

“Yeah, alright.” He nodded a little, but did not let go of Stiles, silently reaffirming that the other boy was going to go with them. “Call me later.” Jackson’s statement was directed to Danny, who nodded a little. He had planned on it anyway.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Jackson did not eat much during dinner that evening, though Stiles did not expect him to. He bounced his knee all through dinner, fighting his want to just ask Jackson questions about everything that had happened. In front of his parents was not the time or place. It seemed like an eternity later that the two of them actually went upstairs to Jackson’s room. “I need another shower,” Jackson mumbled as he ran a hand through his hair. He'd had one at the hospital, but he still felt dirty, like there was an itch on his skin that he could not quite be rid of.

 

“You do that,” Stiles replied as he sat down on Jackson’s bed, reaching up to idly toy with the ring on his necklace, sliding it back and forth along the chain. “I'm not going anywhere.”

 

Jackson sighed, nodding a little before he walked over to the bed. He stood directly in front of Stiles, gently tilting the other teen's face upward enough for him to duck down and kiss Stiles firmly. Stiles smiled faintly into the kiss, pushing himself up off the bed so that Jackson wouldn't have to stoop over so much to kiss him. “This isn't showering,” Stiles mumbled after a few moments, resting their foreheads together with a faint sigh. Jackson just smirked before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Hurry back.”

 

Once Jackson had disappeared into the bathroom, leaving the connecting door open, Stiles smiled a little and then went over to the other teen's dresser to steal a pair of sleep pants. He set his jeans on top of his backpack near the door before tugging on the pants that were just a little too big. Stiles rolled the waist of them over once and used the drawstring to tighten them into place before he went over to climb into Jackson’s bed, settling down near the middle of it.

 

Stiles lay quietly, just listening to the sound of Jackson showering in the other room, taking comfort in the fact that the other teen was _there_. None of them had any idea what was going on, and that worried Stiles; but, for the time being, he was trying to just focus on the fact that Jackson was okay. He was practically asleep when Jackson came back to the room, crawling into the bed behind him to hold him close. Stiles hummed softly, snuggling back against the warmth of Jackson’s form while letting his fingers run along the arm that was draped over his waist. He still was not quite sure how they had ended up there, but Stiles did not mind. He was coming to really care about Jackson, even if he had never meant for it to happen. “I don't remember anything,” Jackson mumbled in Stiles' ear after a few minutes of silence, “not after walking you to class. There's just... nothing.” Stiles nodded a little, not fully sure what he could tell Jackson. He did not know much else; and what he did know, Danny had informed him of already. “What if I hurt someone? There was blood on my clothes, Stiles.”

 

Stiles inhaled sharply and stilled his fingers only to run his hand along Jackson’s arm until he could slip his fingers between Jackson’s with a squeeze. “It could be yours,” replied the other teen quietly, trying not to show how much he disliked that idea. He knew that Jackson could hear how his heart sped up and his breath became unsteady, however. Jackson pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, squeezing his fingers gently with a mumble about him being fine. “I tried to find you. You just... I couldn't even find you with magic, Jackson. We started to think...”

 

Jackson then pulled away from Stiles, only to get the other boy to turn and lay on his other side so that they could look at one another. “I'm not going anywhere,” replied Jackson, his voice sounding more sure than he actually felt. He had no idea what was going on with him, and he was secretly worried about hurting Stiles. Jackson smiled faintly, reaching up to brush his fingers along Stiles' jawline, the expression on his face growing when Stiles closed his eyes with a soft sigh. “We'll figure this out, yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” replied Stiles, nodding as he wet his lips before looking back to Jackson. “I just... I was worried. Everyone was worried, and I couldn't... I hate not being able to do anything, feeling useless and--” Stiles' words were cut off by Jackson firmly kissing him once again. Stiles slowly relaxed into the action, lifting one hand to rest on the back of Jackson’s neck in order to pull him closer until their legs were practically tangled together as they lay pressed close to one another.

 

“You're not useless, Stiles,” Jackson mumbled after slowly breaking the kiss, nuzzling the other teen's nose a little. Both of them smiled softly and Stiles idly lifted his hand from Jackson’s neck to shift his fingers through the other teen's hair. “We'll worry about it tomorrow, when we go over to Derek’s. Okay?”

 

Stiles let out a breath he did not realize that he was holding and he nodded a little. “Yeah, tomorrow. No more thinking about it tonight. Promise.”

 

“Good.” Jackson sighed contentedly as he brought Stiles as close to him as possible, smirking a little when Stiles hooked a leg around his to draw him closer. He could not remember anything over the previous few days but the feeling of _missing_ the teen in his arms hit him strongly enough that if he had been standing, he probably would have fallen over. “I missed you.”

 

Jackson’s words were almost inaudible, pressed into Stiles' hair, but the brown-eyed teen heard them easily enough, and he smiled faintly as he twisted the fingers of one hand into the front of Jackson’s t-shirt, drawing him even closer. “I missed you, Jackson,” Stiles mumbled, yawning a little through the words, though even that could not hid the sincerity there.

 

That night, Jackson dreamt of screams and blood, the sounds of chains and laughter. He felt a phantom touch along his back, but when he looked, no one was there. He could hear Stiles screaming somewhere off to the side, and he saw Scott staring blankly up at the ceiling, not moving. His throat was ripped out. Danny and Isaac lay a few feet beyond him, still holding hands though neither body showed a sign of life. Derek was somewhere else; Jackson had not made note of injuries but knew that the alpha was dead. Echoing laughter filled the room, and Jackson sat up with a gasp. It was still dark in the bedroom, and the alarm clock on the bedside table told Jackson that it was only three in the morning.

 

With a sigh, Jackson reached over and turned on the bedside light only to freeze when the light was one and he saw that there was blood on his hand. He then looked at the bedding near him to find streaks of blood coloring the white sheets. Jackson’s heart was hammering in his chest and it nearly stopped when he turned to find Stiles lying next to him with a terrified expression frozen on his face. Stiles was not breathing and he was covered in blood. Jackson tore the sheets away only to find that Stiles was _mutilated_ , in a way that made him feel sick to his stomach. His breath came in short, uneven pants as he tried to figure out what had happened. The blood on his trembling hands gave him his answer, though, and it was as he leaned over the edge of the bed to get sick that he heard it. Someone was saying his name far away.

 

“Jackson!” he heard, the sound more sudden and sharp than the last, which made him jump upright and realize that he had been laying down. Jackson’s brow furrowed as he looked around him, trying to figure out what was going on and where the blood had gone. Stiles continued lying on the bed next to him, a hand on his arm. “Jacks, are you okay?”

 

Jackson let out a heavy breath that mixed with a shaky laugh before he quickly pulled Stiles up into a hug, causing the other boy to gasp softly in surprise as he suddenly found himself upright. Stiles shifted enough that he was sitting straddling Jackson’s lap in order to be able to hug the other teen easier and firmly. “Bad dream?” Stiles asked quietly, pressing a kiss to Jackson’s shoulder before tilting his head to the side enough to allow Jackson easier access to his neck, where the other boy's face was currently hiding.

 

“The worst,” Jackson mumbled, idly running his hand along Stiles' back underneath the teen's shirt, finding the skin-to-skin contact more comforting than anything.

 

Stiles did not say anything else. He just continued to stay close to Jackson, idly running his fingers through the other teen's hair repeatedly in a soothing manner. He closed his own eyes, continuing to let Jackson’s fingers brush along his back. He pressed into the touch absentmindedly, sighing softly when Jackson pressed a firm kiss against his neck, almost as if remind him that he was there, or something. “What happened?” Stiles asked, only after Jackson’s heart rate had returned to a normal pace and Stiles was no longer worried about the other teen jumping out of his own skin.

 

Jackson tensed underneath him, and the teen's fingers pressed more firmly against Stiles' back without it actually becoming painful. Stiles felt the faintest press of claws, however, but he did not pull away. It was one thing that Stiles was not worried about; Jackson hurting him, that was. Jackson had never even hurt him when the guy was out of control under the full moon. Jackson would not hurt him. Derek thought the amount of control that Jackson had with Stiles had to do with the guy's deep rooted promise to never let someone else hurt Stiles again. Stiles did not care to know why; he just knew that Jackson would not hurt him. “You died,” replied the teen quietly, his voice almost breaking. Jackson cleared his throat a little to mask that, however, flattening his hand against Stiles' back once again taking away a chance of him accidentally scratching the other boy. “I did it.”

 

“You're not going to hurt me,” Stiles insisted, shaking his head a little, pulling away enough to look Jackson in the eye. He lifted the hand that was not still sifting through the teen's hair to brush along his face, thumb brushing over his lips. “You won't.”

 

“I could.” Jackson’s voice was quiet, hesitant and slightly broken to a point that Stiles could not keep from smiling with a shake of his head.

 

“No, or you would have already. _You_ wouldn't ever hurt me.” Stiles shook his head a little, leaning in enough to gently kiss his boyfriend.

 

Jackson sighed softly, closing his eyes for a moment while shifting Stiles on his lap enough that there was no space left between them. “What if I’m not in control? What if I can't stop it?”

 

Stiles had no answer for those questions, not that Jackson expected them. He did not move away from the popular teen any, either, though. Stiles remained exactly were he was, fingers stilling in Jackson’s hair though they curled into the strands, keeping him held close. Stiles pressed a kiss right where Jackson’s jawline met his neck, making the young werewolf sigh faintly as well, gently squeezing Stiles' hip with the hand that was not still resting on his back. They remained that way in silence, Stiles eventually resting his head on Jackson’s shoulder, practically falling asleep due to lack of rest right were he was. Jackson swore he was almost asleep as well when he finally heard Stiles mumble, “I trust you.”


End file.
